Disclaimer: if I owned Harry Potter, this wouldn't be fanfiction.

Pairing: HP/TMR

Warnings for this chapter: violence and death

AN: Hello! This is my first fanfic although I've been reading them for years. Please be nice to me :). Over the years a lot of elements of the other fics I've read have become parts of my own imagination so if I steal anything by accident let me know and I'll credit the original author. Fic inspired by, but absolutely nothing like, Silk Roads by GenderlessPerson. This fic will contain slash, time travel, and a lot more that I don't want to spoil.

Special thanks to my boyfriend for beta-ing!

"Lumos."

A brilliant ball of light joined the hundred or so others already serving as light in the absence of the moon. You could cut the tension with a diffindo. Everyone was waiting, Harry was waiting. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the smoke from a thousand burning trees stinging his lungs. He was, for once, grateful for his poor eyesight- how the others were able to keep their eyes open was a mystery. Probably some spell, maybe he should ask Herm- no, he shook the thought from his mind. He'd worry about it later. For now he had to concentrate. He had to be ready.

The group was sprawled as randomly as the stars themselves on that barren hilltop. There were witches and wizards from all corners of the country- some old, some young but each and every one as brave as Godric himself. They came to fight. To fight for their lives, their magic, and the blackened land upon which they stood. The land which the muggles had burnt, had broken, had-

Harry startled at the sound of voices.

"We've been here an hour, are you sure it's going to be here?"

"Oh shut up Ron, just shut up and listen."

"But no one is coming Herm-"

"Ron."

"I'm telling you" thwack "ow… bloody hell, whad'you do that for?"

"I did it because you-"

"Trouble in paradise, you two?" Harry interjected, feeling some of the tension leaving him. At least he wasn't alone.

"Harry, would you please help me talk some sense into him." He couldn't see them, but he could imagine the dark glare Ron was currently on the receiving end of- along with the bewildered expression on the redhead's face. He loved those two, and always would.

"Just l-" whatever Ron had been about to say was cut off by a gunshot to their left. With a glance at the others he darted towards the action. There was no time to talk now.

Gunshots and explosions mixed with curses and flashes of light. Magic clashed with bullets, the mysterious with the mundane- and through it all Harry moved. Through it all he danced.

To say he liked battle would be an understatement. Perhaps he had simply grown accustomed during Voldemort's reign, perhaps some remnant of Tom Riddle's sadism had remained even long after the scar and the horcrux had left him. Or maybe, just maybe, something irreplaceable had broken when Sirius fell through the veil. Honestly the cause didn't matter- the fact remained that, at some point, he had gone from loathing battle to loving it. To loving it so much he'd actually missed it. That's not to say that he wanted this to happen. No one wanted this to happen.

"Confrigo, bombarda, stupefy!"

Harry glanced over his shoulder to see who was casting the spells. A bright flash of orange light illuminated the light hair and stern, determined expression of one of his oldest friends. Neville had come a long way. Nodding to him, Harry turned back to the fray.

Minutes, maybe hours went by. Harry didn't know. Countless were dead, on both sides. There was pain in his left arm- he didn't know what it was from, but thank God it wasn't in his wand arm. That would be the death of him. Blood kept trickling into his right eye from who knows where, half blinding him. Still, he was alive and that was good enough for him.

The muggle explosives were long since spent, the only remaining threat the soldiers- and their guns. One by one the group Harry had been engaging grew smaller, their bullets easily blocked by his shields. As the last fell, Harry straightened up to take in his surroundings. The numbers had diminished on both sides, but more so on the muggles'. This was nothing to rejoice at- they were grievously outnumbered. A few metres to his right he could see Neville engaging three or four muggles- the light was too sporadic to be certain- and clearly starting to struggle. To his left Ron and Hermione fought back to back. He ran towards Neville. Soon, he was in earshot.

"Die you damn fucking freak!" a muggle soldier. A… sergeant, maybe? He wasn't brilliant with muggle ranks.

"Expelliarmus. Expulso!" Neville's reply took down one of the man's companions.

He was answered with gunshots.

Their fight raged on, and Harry ran to take on the other muggle- a woman this time. She was blonde and… a corporal? He didn't really have time to wonder, she already had her gun drawn on him.

Back to back he fought with Neville, their forms pressed ever closer at the muggles' advance. Then, finally, Harry's corporal fell to a stupefy.

"Lacero!" Neville cried, and Harry snapped his head around just in time to watch the blood red arc fly towards the sergeant- and over his head. Harry expected it to fizzle out soon, Neville wouldn't have put that much power into one spell. But it didn't. It kept going. His breath caught in his throat. It was headed towards-

"Hermione! HERMIONE!" Ron's scream was the last thing he heard before his feet took over and he ran towards the voice.

Crouching down next to Ron he stared. And stared. And stared.

The clouds finally cleared. The stars dwarfed the scene. There, under their ancient light lay a pale figure surrounded by three men. Her chestnut curls surrounded her like a messy halo; her dark eyes were glazed- as though in awe, as though she had been merely stargazing; her pale skin glowed in the starlight like an angel's.

But her chest was still, and her stomach bloody.

The wizards' last brilliant mind was gone.

Dear diary 4th of September 1943

The new boy:

Walburga gave me this diary as a "welcome back to school" present. I think she was just trying to make up for cursing my girlfriend- or make me forget that it wasn't an accident. One of the two. Regardless, I may as well use it. So, today has been interesting. Not like a normal first day back- I mean, mostly it was. The Hogwarts express went as normal (if you ignore all the extra security that everywhere has now-a-days, that is) and we sat down and had a feast and the first years were sorted etcetera etcetera. Nothing out of the ordinary there. No, the remarkable thing was what was introduced after the feast- or well, not what. Who.

A new sixth year! I had no idea Hogwarts even accepted transfer students that late in one's education. Especially seeing as he went to Durmstrang! Their curriculum is completely different to ours! I mean, I understand that they have to send the children evacuated from the continent somewhere, but still surely private tutors would make more sense? Or something like that at least! This poor boy- Hurtz? Heinrich? Heinrich. I think that's it - will have no idea what on Earth is going on in half his classes! I'm not even sure he speaks English. He didn't speak for the whole walk to the common room.

Anyway, I would write more but I really must sleep. I will write again tomorrow. Is that how you say goodbye to a diary? Should I even say goodbye? Oh who cares. Goodnight.

AN: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it. Don't worry, Tom will appear soon. This is just a sort of introduction chapter, my fic won't be too slow moving. If you notice any mistakes please let me know and I'll fix them.

Constructive criticism appreciated.

Fic recommendation for today: I've mentioned it once already but Silk Roads by GenderlessPerson. They're currently on hiatus but it's still worth a read. I'm also stealing the idea of leaving a recommendation from them. It's HP/LV, but beyond that I won't say anything, I don't want to spoil it.